The Beautiful Curse
by violafanatic
Summary: Jackson Overland reflects on the curse of his family's- err, mother's- genes. The curse of being incredibly, ridiculously, undeniably good-looking. Thus begins a man's mission to protect his family from their own physical attractiveness.
1. Chapter 1

His whole life, Jackson Overland Frost has had to suffer from the curse that was his mother's genes. The same Tooth genes that meant he was born very, very, ridiculously good-looking just like his mother, and her parents, and her grandparents, and so forth. Members of the Tooth family were indisputably attractive, and were known to marry other unbelievably attractive people. With the exception of his mother.

As for his father, possibly during his youth, in pitch dark lighting and with one's eyes closed, North Frost might be considered vaguely attractive, but he was not unattractive enough to offset Jack's mother's genes. Hence Jack's recurring dilemna.

From his youth, Jack has had to endure hoards of admirers, stalkers, wannabe lovers, and jealous boyfriends. The sheer amount of gifts and death threats he got on every holiday- not just Valentine's Day anymore, no, when he was 12, girls decided that one day each year was not enough to show their love for him- was overwhelming that he had to get four P.O. boxes at the post office to accommodate the amount of gifts.

He could not go anywhere without women, and the occasional man, throwing themselves at him, begging for attention he is not willing to give. As he got older, his patrician features made it so that even girlfriends and sometimes wives gave him twice-overs, five-overs, etc.

Thus, Jack Frost resolved to never subject another generation of Frosts- who was he kidding, this is probably the first time _any_ generation of Frosts have accumulated such attention- to such a horrible curse. The beautiful curse. He resolved that when the time came, he would marry a plain, homely woman who would bear him average or even unattractive children to spare them from the constant fear of being jumped by the opposite gender.

And when Jack vowed to something, he stuck to it. There would be no deviation from his plan.

Then, the town prude Elsa Arens just _had_ _to_ come prancing along in her skin-tight skater dress that accentuated every womanly curve in her body. And Jack just _had to_ suddenly have eyes that noticed said curves. And hair. And face. And everything else.

Damn hormones.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack cursed his good looks for possibly the millionth time.

His supermodel face and perfect physique brought him nothing but trouble. He couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by dozens of drooling females. At least when he was with his family, namely his mother, other girls would feel intimidated by being in the presence of someone equally attractive to him, thus, keeping the hungry maneaters at bay.

However, alone at the supermarket, buying _chicken soup_ for his sick—although Jack believes in his heart of hearts that North is just honest to goodness a lazy ass— Jack finds himself wide open to the artless seductions of single moms, female cashiers, and the guy manning the poultry section.

Quickly grabbing the cheapest can, because his dad is lucky Jack is even getting him _diddly squat_ , Jack rushed toward the nearest check-out register. However, as soon as he arrived in the line he could feel the beady eyes of the countless females who coincidentally chose the same aisle. One particularly determined preteen even kept passing him a napkin with crude poetry, claiming that he 'dropped it' in her pocket.

Having half a mind to flash a picture of his father to ward off the thirsty females, Jack was kept from taking desperate measures as he finally reached the front of the line. Yet, he turned to face the cashier only to be met with the painful sight of neon pink lipstick and a ridiculously low-cut top. Jack swore that the cashier was bent nearly 90 degrees in an attempt to 'show her stuff,' which proved to have the opposite of the desired effect as the sight burnt what his fangirls called, his priceless heartthrob eyes.

"Well hey there, handsome," she said in a breathy tone that was probably supposed to be seductive but sounded more like a bad case of tuberculosis. Rolling his eyes, Jack ignored the statement as he fished out a couple dollars for the soup. He learned quickly that fangirls have gotten progressively smarter and can find out his address and Friendbook account through the name on his credit card. Ever since one girl visited his house laden with gifts that coincidentally contained her name, phone number, and address, he opted to paying cash and only using his _dad's_ card in the event of an emergency. Being met with his dad's _supposed-to-be-playboy_ Friendbook profile picture promptly kept girls from looking up the name 'Frost'. Thus proving Jack's theory of the redeeming nature of being hideous.

"What's a big strong hunk like you doing here all by yourself?" Cashier girl tried again, apparently not getting the hint.

"Waiting," he muttered. _Go away, you old broad._

"…for a woman like me?"

"To hurry up? Yeah," A chime-like voice finished her sentence. Jack raised an eyebrow at this and turned to find none other than Elsa Arens waiting in line right behind him.

"If you would be a dear," Elsa's sculpted face gave a dazzling, albeit cold, smile towards the girl, "and not turn the supermarket into a singles meet-and-greet, that would be great, because last I checked, 'Checkout' applied to food, not males."

Jack's visage remained stoic but he couldn't help as a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. The cashier girl on the other hand looked like she was having an aneurysm.

"Why you little—"

"Ma'am I can help you over here," said a voice to Jack's right as another cash register opened up. The guy standing behind it was evidently amused by Elsa's statement and Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes at the way the guy gave Elsa a once over as she moved her cart forward.

The curious thing about Elsa was that while she was a keen observer of the behaviorisms of the same sex, she failed to understand the opposite sex. Hence, while she was aware of the looks the male cashier was giving her, she failed to provide an immediate, caustic rebuke as she did the female cashier, allowing the man to eye her rather short summer dress that revealed legs that ran for miles and flawless porcelain skin.

While Jack had long been immune to the charms of women, he, too, had to admit that there was an ethereal quality to Elsa, an innocence that belied siren-like beauty. Even as an Adonis, Jack had enough sense to appreciate beauty when he saw it, especially when it was rare for the quality to appear outside of his own household.

However, Jack's gorgeous features were marred by a scowl when he heard the distasteful flirtations of the much older cashier boy.

"Evenin', sweetheart," the cashier said with a toothy grin.

"Hello," Elsa replied politely but dismissively.

He didn't get the clue.

"You're a pretty thing, aren't you?" he flattered. It wasn't flattering. "You live around here?"

"No," she lied. She noted in her head to never return to this store again, or Creep Street for all intents and purposes. "What's my total?"

"$19.87. You ever been on a motorcycle?"

Elsa quickly took out her money and quickly paid him, being sure to avoid her credit card so she would not have to show him her ID. "No," she said, "I'm allergic."

She blanched when she realized what she said. The cashier, however, smiled even more.

"What was that, darling?"

"The leather, I am allergic to leather." _And you._

Watching this painful conversation unfold, Jack found himself gradually fuming. Elsa's lack of self-awareness was infuriating. She lost complete control of her head when the cashier hit on her and like every other frustratingly pretty girl who didn't realize that they were frustratingly pretty, she was ignorant to her own appeal and therefore getting herself into trouble at every turn because of it. And he couldn't tolerate a girl as insipidly naive as Elsa. Absolutely not.

Incredibly beautiful women like her were why Jack needed to marry ugly. Just picturing the parade of male suitors who would be showing up at her doorstep because she didn't know how to shut a man down was a nightmare. Unacceptablele.

But Jack being the gracious saint he was, stepped up to assist her after he quickly paid for his cans of soup. _First his sick father, and now a damsel in distress, Jack was on a roll._

"Hey there Elsa-boo," Jack tried to pass off conversationally although he cringed at the poor attempt at a petname. Elsa looked surprised but said nothing as Jack's arm looped around her waist and hung loosely.

"And you are?" The cashier asked, any remains of his teasing nature gone with the introduction of a perceived competitor for the fair maiden. But in all honesty, with Jack, there was no competition.

Jack took a deep breath, knowing that what he was going to do was to save his fellow sufferer of beauty. She helped him, he would help her. "Her boyfriend," came Jack's prompt response, unconsciously tightening his grip on Elsa's waist.

The cashier boy immediately appeared crestfallen and more than a little awkward as he handed Elsa her change.

"Can't blame a guy for trying..." he chucked nervously.

Jack merely scowled at the response before picking up Elsa's purchases for her and walking her out of the market, leaving an unprecedented trail of broken hearts in the wake of the ex-bachelor and bachelorette.

The event was supposed to have been done and over with when he released her waist and they went their separate ways, an unidentifiable tension lingering in the air. However, that was dismissible because what happens at the market, stays at the market. Right?

.

.

.

Apparently not.


End file.
